


Not A Fallen Star

by cindera



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Blood, Casual Sex, Connor is a Fairy-Vampire Hybrid, F/M, Fairies, Fairy-Vampire Hybrid, Imprinting, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vampires, attempt to rhyme but fail, blood sucking, no particular conflict, slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cindera/pseuds/cindera
Summary: Rumour has it that some creatures breaking into human-world. You never regard it. Until one night you've got a report of something befallen your own backyard.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	1. Injured Man

**Author's Note:**

> Hello... Wish you'll be delighted with this story ◕‿◕

The sheen of the full moon. Glittering stars as though of diamonds above. Rumour has it about the emergence of creatures; breaching the boundary between two natures. You refuse to believe, and will never be, or so you intended to at the beginning. It doesn't meet with the logic; you contemplate as you stroll behind the wheel. Then you get a dispatch from the operator. It was sourced from your own neighbor; they told of something bright fell down behind the house of yours.

Not long after, you braked and step out of the vehicle. Nothing out of ordinary, you think. Flashlight enlightens your pathway. Toward the fertile garden, you traverse. There, above the green grass, are broken pots of various-colors flowers. Amidst them laid an unconscious figure; a man with stature so irresistible. Aside from peculiar wounds appear on the skin, that is.

Sympathy takes over you instantly, eliminate the significant propositions that needed to be debriefed. Such as his extremely light-tone skin—pale as you thought mindlessly. Or his unnatural low temperature as if he is a cadaver. And his half-naked body only with pants of dark-green, which the fabric reminds you of old withered leaves. Above all that, the limped colorful butterfly-like wings attached from his shoulder blade.

'Wherever costume party he came from,' you presume as you drag his heavyweight into your living place—which soon you'll realize it was a fatal mistake (Or, is it?).

Over the sofa you put him down. Your eyes wander and explore. Pretty freckles from the neck to shoulders. Dark-brown short hair and disheveled. Smutty thought shrouded your brain. You shake your head again and again.

Now, the wounds are covered with some kind of dark-grey powder with hints of white sparkles. So you clean it up all carefully, rinse it and dry it. Then you go to the kitchen to put the bowl in the sink. When you come back to the living room, you see as your 'guest' slowly awakens, sitting and disoriented.

At this moment, you are not only getting perplexed by how his beautiful amber eyes gradually put a focus on you, but also how all the wounds shut bit by bit, leaving his skin flawless and intact. Inside your head, screamed aloud the warning to flee. Instead of listening to your thought, your body freeze at the kitchens' entryway.

“Please don't be afraid,” said the pale man with the limped butterfly wings. Despite the frigid features, his deep smooth vocal soothingly you back into sanity. “I truly don't mean to frighten you.” An indistinct smile unraveled under his breath. He lowers his gaze to examine his conditions. “I see you have saved me from the impending death.”

“I-I did nothing,” you stuttered as you grip tightly on the wooden arch frame. Your mind roaming about, running certain scenarios on how to save yourself, or possibly get rid of the stranger promptly from your living place. You curse internally as you realized, you had put down your gun on the kitchen countertop next to the sink. But there is a radio on the police car, which you can use to send a dispatch. The question is, how you could reach it in time?

“You cleansed the iron powder, which considered a consequential procedure.” He runs his palm carefully on his fit bare torso, where the wounds closed moments ago. His eyes, though, never shifts away from you. “Can you guess what I am?”

Your breath avast in concurrent with your increased heartbeat. “A... a drunk guy from—some mad costume party?”

A deep raspy chuckle loosens from his throat. “You are a police officer,” those keen eyes scanning your uniform briefly. “Please, don't play dumb on me,” he maintained a tranquil tone, knowing you try to deny the circumstances. “You at least have a slight idea.”

You shake your head indecisively. “I-I don't exactly—”

“Alright. I'll tell you honestly since you've done a critical good deed on me,” he interjects with a lopsided smile so subtle. “The rumors, that are currently spreading around your world, have it right.”

Once more the fight-or-flight response kicks in, but your body immobilizes still. “Wh-what...”

“You heard me. 'We'—and many more—exist,” he reveals forthrightly, as though it was something he used to perform. Calmly he crossed his arms on his chest, leaning against the sofa's back. “There are fairies. There are vampires. And there are in between, such as me. A half-fairy and a half-vampire.”

Your eyes enlarged following his last sentence. It feels like you've just been slapped into reality. He said half-vampire... You are in no right state to decide, whether or not to start to believe. What you should prioritize currently is your own safety. “Please don't hurt me...”

Again, the pale man lets out a faint chuckle. “Kinda on the contrary, actually.” Sudden naughty gaze travels down from your head to toe. “I intended to propose a compensation... For the trouble that I'd caused you...”

This time you freeze not out of fright. You blink as you slowly tilt your head slightly. Might be your ears are faulty. “What... do you mean?”

On you, the man maintains his staring, with a wanton smile so elusive. “I know... you've put an interest on me. Of my physical appearance, particularly.”

Quickly you avert his eyes. Lips shut tightly. Pretty much you grasp the course of the conversation. Yet you don't try to refute his notion. Slowly your fears replaced with high hope. But you thought, you are certain hadn't shown him any hint of attraction. Then before you raise a question, epiphany hits you...

“Correct.” Suddenly the pale man rises on his feet, opens his enigmatic colorful wings to take a leap forward, then lands right in front of you. “I have the gift to read mind.”

You take a few steps back in surprise. He follows ahead a little. His frame shadowing you. Heart roaring aloud behind your chest. But is not completely out of fear, though you should be, for he admitted of his specific ability. You could smell—that you couldn't sense before—a fragrant emanate from his body.

“What do you think? You have no partner, and you've been lonely for years. Am I right?” The man carefully—as though anxious to cause you any harm—lifts his hand to give your cheek a light touch. He stares at you with an (oddly) longing gaze before pronouncing your full name.

You startle only in a slight, trying to take back off in reluctance. But why are you hesitant to make some distance from him? “How do you... know all of that?” Your nose wrinkles as the fragrant constantly hitting your nasal cavity. Not that it bothers you. Gradually you sense your mind being clouded by some kind of mist.

“It's on your uniform nameplate,” he gives your nameplate a little flick. “But, to be honest, I've already known so much about you... _Nimaylish_ ,” he put emphasis on the last word that you couldn't comprehend. Instead of raising questions, you feel delighted at the way he pronounced the foreign phrase. It sounds so full of yearning. And you don't resist when he gently lifts your chin to presses his forehead onto yours. Chilly air movement collided with your slightly warmer breath. “Let's... go to your bedroom?” he whispers onto your lips.

Mindlessly you nod in silence. As you are being lifted, hastily you encircle your arms and legs around his torso. He is sturdy and cold in temperature, yet it doesn't bother you much. You can feel his bulge between your thighs. He opens his wings wide and begins to flaps. You both float as he drifts further into your house. You can tell he knows where to go. You instantly remember his ability that could read minds...

You kiss him back as he demands your lips. It has no taste, the saliva. If any, it is close to dew that freshens the morning. Tongue sliding between your teeth, invading and curling yours inside. His breath tickling your skin, the temperature below of average human range. When he breaks the kiss, already you are in your bedroom.

Levitating under the dim light ceiling. Both of you circling around slowly. He resumes his action. Kissing you a lot for so long, with hands grope and grope. You sense as if he is craving for you for ages. Then he pulls his face from you, only for a tiny distance.

“ _Nimaylish_...” again he used that term. He holds you tight with one arm as he gently begins to unbutton your upper uniform.

“Name...” of other things you should ask, you rather raise that specific subject, “your—”

“You can call me Connor...” he murmurs, almost sounded like he is amused. Then he continues to strips you. Unhurriedly as if to savor every second. Your uniform piled up on the floor not long after.

You find yourself being set naked on the bed. Beneath your line of sight, the pale man put one of his knees over the mat. Still, he wears the 'leafy'-ish pants. His wings remain expanded; once in a while flutter from top to the bottom, membranes flickering in colors. Obscene gaze trailing down your whole body. In your eyes, he looks extremely captivating, just like a fairy prince from the old stories. Which he is—or at least some parts of him.

The pale man chuckles audibly. Of course, he practically can read what passed through your brain. “You ought to see yourself from my perspective. I've been dreaming of you since forever, _Nimaylish_.” He drops down his wings before lingeringly dragging himself toward you, taking his place between your legs.

“Dream...” you blink slowly, failed to process a coherent thought. The pleasant scent knocks you hard when Connor looming over you. Your hands being pinned as he is gnawing your jaw gently. He felt so cold... And you don't sense anything sharp between his teeth. Strangely, you can't quite put your finger on it...

“The fangs, I could adjust them if required.” He aligns his face above yours. His iron grip confines your wrists still to the mat. He then opens his mouth wide, so to show you two fangs growing downward. It looked sharper now as the growth stopped.

For an unknown reason, somehow, you wonder how it feels like when his fangs buried deep inside your flesh...

“Is... is that okay?”

“Wh-what?” You are vaguely awake from the oblivion. Found the bright eyes full of expectation bore into you.

“I've told you about my half-vampiric origin...” he almost sounds embarrassed. “I'm not in my best condition yet. And... I need a 'meal' to replenish my vitality...”

“Oh... Will it be hurt?” you asked belittlingly. Later you need to contemplate profoundly as to why you just let these bizarre things happened to you.

The pale man averts his eyes. “A little bit, to be honest. But will counterbalance by... something much pleasant.” He turns his face with wicked grin breaks under his breath.

“More than... your scent?”

“Oh, absolutely...” he utters in a deep hoarse tone.

You wonder how will it feels like... “Okay...”

An indistinctive mischievous smile unfolds before Connor invades your mouth again. Fingers tightened slightly around your wrists. He nibbles your lips, tongue exploring your mouth cavity. Seconds passed when he finally retracts in satisfaction. “After this, yeah...” He lands a peck on your chin. But doesn't just stop there as he lands some more on your neck. He pulls his fingers so to keep ventures down; to your collarbone, breasts, belly, and so on...


	2. Savor You

Under blurred yellow lighting. Gentle yet cold hands stroke your thighs. He props his upper weight on his elbows, nests his face between your legs. Chilly breath touches your inner vulva as a tip of tongue nudges your clit.

Slightly you jerked your hips. Thighs' muscles stiffened on either side of him. But he doesn't just cease. Licking and probing in a certain rhythm. Until you clawed the sheets beneath and screech. He dismisses your plea. Firm arms circling your thighs so as to hold you in your point.

Your breaths getting chaotic by the unmerciful strike. You squirm, sensing your groin pulsating. “I-I think I...”

“Of course you are,” he said proudly, lifts his head up slowly. Due to what he did, the gathered pleasure gradually declined from your groin.

Frustratedly, you raise your chin, wailing. “Why... why don't you let me...?” your voice shaking.

“Because I deserve your first immense orgasm ever.” He sits with straightened back, slightly tilted his head, watching attentively as your breath went back to regular. In split second he pulls slightly down his pants, freeing his genital which you couldn't regard (you wonder if it has the same anatomical). His titters snap you back. “Of course it's the same.” Then, fingertips dig into your thighs, adjusting your legs around his waist.

“B-but...” You get no change in completing your query. Instead, you gasp when he suddenly presses his crotch on your groin. Hardened length teases your inner vulva, stroking there in seconds. It is below human body heat, but still grants you a glimpse of need.

He chuckles as to witnessing your breaths went havoc once more. So he retreats and waits until you eased down. “In my dreams, often you seduced me with this body of yours. But you never let me get close,” he sounded as well as looked annoyed. “So... I think it's my turn, no?”

Your eyes widened in worriedness. “What? But—but that was not my—”

“I know,” he cuts in a slightly gentle tone now. With no denote, he shoves his two fingers into your rather moist hole.

You hold your breath by the intrusion. It's dull and odd. You are trying to remember the last time you managed to connect with someone by this close. It feels like very distant recollections.

“It's her law—the goddess of the fall, _Nimaylish_ ,” he clarifies as his fingers venture and scissoring inside you. “When for the first time you appeared in my dream, the chain of destiny was already set for us. We are to be bound together.” Then, for once, he finally presses on your sweet spot in a strict force.

“Ahhh... C-Connor...” You arch your back, gripping on the sheet tightly. Reflexively you move your hips to pursue the pleasure. A strong arm nimbly clings around your thigh, preventing you from making a lot of movement. You glare on the dim ceiling, panting mess as the pale man resumes his lazy fingering. It seems like you really can't do many. You shall just accept the stimulation he currently grants you with.

“Good... That's it, _Nimaylish_ ,” he praises in his husky voice. Without losing the focus of his performance, he looms forward to steals a momentarily kiss.

Rough breaths come out of your nose as you try to tolerate his tempo. The kiss was full of hunger and viscous. You withdraw your hands to clutch your fingers under the pillow. Once more he suddenly put pressure on your sweet spot. Your moan hampered at your upper throat.

“You are doing so well for me,” he flatters again after breaking the kiss. Slender-long fingers keep pushing and pulling. He smiles indifferently, yet his eyes filled with pleased.

Minutes passed since he begins the 'torture'. You lose count of how many times he curled his fingertips on the sensitive nubs, only to neglect it as he seems could sense your increased arousal. Sweat covered almost your whole body when he, at last, retracts his fingers out of your extremely wet hole. You pant rapidly and feel your heart hammering behind your chest.

“That's it... _Nimaylish_...” He unfolds a one-sided smile. Lewd amber eyes glide about your disarray expression and curves. “You are so delightful,” He purrs before rises slightly on his knees. Palms squeeze your asscheeks, pulling you closer to him. His gaze wandering down, adjusting his tip of cock onto your entrance. “Alert me if you can't endure it. I will try to warmth you.” Overlook your need to register his sentence, he pushes in.

Your hoarse groan thickened the air as his hardened cold length urges inside you. Sting chill spread out from your lower body. Your muscles stiffened, and you curled your toes tightly. “It's—it's—”

“I know. I'm sorry, _Nimaylish_.” He pulls you onto his lap nimbly, with his cock impaled in you still. He braces you firmly with his arms over your torso, lands a couple of pecks on your shoulder, then softly chants a spell with a language you never heard afore. Obscure yellow room gleams in colorful lights by Connor's sudden glowing wings.

All the cold is gone. Just like that.

You sigh in relief. On his lap, you stay still. Arms linked behind his neck. His strain of hairs on your cheek. Being this close, the fragrant hit your nose more. You inhale deeply to savor.

Connor snorts at your gesture. “That's it, _Nimaylish_. Relish everything from me,” he cooed as if to soothing you down even more. His hands stroking your back smoothly. Nearly he moves to put you down aback onto the mat, hadn't you suddenly move your hips upward in a slight. He growls by the emerging pleasure on his cock.

And you don't cease. You swing at a steady pace and movements. Around you, his arms encircled. You steer so his cock gives a lot of friction on your sweet spot. You start to moan as you feel the pleasure build up gradually. But then you forced to stop when he holds you again with his suddenly tightened arms.

“Wait, _Nimaylish_. I still need my 'meal'...”

You shudder as he rests his face on the crook of your neck. Tip of nose and lips nuzzling there momentarily. His breath delivers a delicate sensation in between your occupied legs. Soaring heart behind your chest. Then it's ensuing; his fangs penetrate into your veins. It's quite hurt at the beginning, much like being stabbed by small needles. Then shortly after, you sense an additional burning sensation around the biting area, as he starts to suck the blood out of you.

A deep audibly snarl arises from the base of Connor's throat; a blend of aggressiveness and satisfaction. His manner reminds you of a starving cat that just had its meal (which is you). Mists clouded your head. You think you could just fall asleep like that. Even, you don't notice when Connor (still with his fangs buried in your flesh) slowly lays you down with your head on the pillow. Until a sudden course of extreme delight overflood your whole body.

Your eyes shot open wide. You writhe in fierce. Undoubtfully, your loud moans filling the air. However, it still not enough yet. You need more. “Connorrr—” your plea manifests into a faint groan as he (thankfully) complies and slams his hips ahead between your legs.

With his arms clings around and beneath your upper torso, and his mouth glued to the crook of your neck, he begins to advance. As your blood replenished his stamina, his hips maneuvers getting erratic. Frequently he lets out a pent-up growl, as he sucks and sucks and sucks. Then he draws away, taking notes as your energy is approaching the lower threshold. He presses his palms on yours, links your fingers together. And below, he doesn't stop. Thrusting and hitting that delicious spot of yours.

Your body, as well as the bed underneath, shaken violently. Surge of pleasure increased steadily. Right before you reach your peak, your mouth being invaded. You get to think, it's quite peculiar since he just sipped your vital fluid, yet you couldn't taste yourself of him. Hastily you lift your chin, discharging yourself from Connor's lips when your orgasm finally surfacing. You release a prolonged trembling moan, fastened your stiffened legs around his waist.

“ _Nimaylish_...” He opens his wings broadly; glowing, fluttering. They illuminate the room with colors so shimmering. He hastily covers your eyes with his palm when caught you dazzled by the lights. Then he gnaws your jaw as he pursues his own climax by multiple heavy strikes. He chants your first name as he releases inside you, filling your hole with his loaded cum.

You both stay still temporarily. Dazzling colorful lights diminished as Connor folds his wings down.

“You were and are so warm... I love it...” He lands some kisses on the crook of your neck. Gently he pulls out before moving away to your side, cuddling you possessively in a short while. Under murky lighting he watches you panting and blinking sleepily. “I'm sorry. Turned out, it seems like I'm the one that gets the advantage of the situation,” he murmurs as he strokes your cheek with his knuckles.

You don't respond yet, catching your breath, sensing your limbs tremble.

“I shall grant you with food after this,” Connor pecks your upper arms, stroking his palm on your stomach.

“You... Who are you exactly...?” you ask weakly as you sense the mists lifted up off your head.

“I'm your _mylahaan_ , as so you to me.” He pokes his thumb with one of his fangs. Dark liquids come out of the little wound that had been made. He extends his hand to your neck, brushing his thumb over your wounds he created earlier.

You wince by his touch before slowly the pain is gone. “What's that word mean?”

“It's similar to 'soulmate' in your language, but more sacred. Like in 'eternity' kind of level.” He pulls you again into his arms. Nuzzling in contents and joyful face.

'Eternity'... You should feel terrified. But then you realized you don't even flinch. Like it was normal, like it should be... Nevertheless, still, so many questions pass through your mind. Unfortunately, for you, you still are too tired to raise them all.

“One at a time, _Nimaylish_... One at a time.” Connor kisses you before he slowly gets up and off the bed. Buckles his pants. “For now, you need nourishment.” He reaches for the blanket. Eyes watching you enter a drowsy state.

“Where are we... going?” you ask in a hush when Connor covers you with the blanket and lifts you up gently.

“As I said: to nourish you.” He brings you out of the bedroom, opens his wings, and begins to float. “I'll give you food in my place. Our place soon. Then meet with my siblings.”

There is a dazzling light again. This time it's bluish in color in your living room. You don't care anymore, resting your head over Connor's shoulder to snooze...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback inflames my spirit  
> (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง


End file.
